


Falling Is Just Like Flying

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cutting, Drinking, M/M, Poor Taire, Sad, Serious feels, Sherlock quotes, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 10:36:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Grantaire. Please. You can't do this."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Is Just Like Flying

"Grantaire. Please. You can't do this."  
Desperation clings to Enjolras' words just like the way Grantaire holds the rails behind him. The water rushes beneath him and although every part of him is screaming to stop, he doesn't. He begins to take his fingers off, one by one.  
10  
"'Taire! Please. I'm begging you! I'm so sorry. You can't do this!"  
Normally, Grantaire would have given in. He would climb back over and collapse into Enjolras' arms like he was a child and they would lie on the bridge and cry into each others shoulders. But not this time.  
9  
"All this time. It's all been a lie." Grantaire says and his voice is a sharp as a knife. It cuts deep into Enjolras and he lets out a small sob.  
8  
"No. No. I swear, I love you 'Taire. Please, just stop this."  
7  
"Stop what?" The waves below him let out an almighty roar and spray flys so high it brushes his feet.  
6  
"I have nothing left to hang onto." It's the truth. Without his love, he's nothing. Just some drunkard who can draw a pretty nice picture occasionally.  
5  
No purpose.  
4  
"You've got me. I promise. I'll never let you go ever again."  
Enjolras' apologies are filled with so much heart and feeling that it almost changes his mind. Almost.  
3  
"I'm sorry, Enjolras, but this is the only way out." Maybe it will be better after this. Maybe he can drink and draw all day in the sunshine.  
2  
"No. Please. If you love me, you wouldn't do this." Grantaire pauses, his final finger trembling, wrapped tight around the metal.  
1  
"I'm sorry. I will always love you." He says and lets go.

********************** 

"Hey Enjolras." Grantaire slides onto the bench beside him, beer bottle in hand. He nuzzles up against the blonde's neck and breathes in his sent. He smells like grass and gunpowder. Grantaire doesn't know why but he loves it, it's just totally Enjolras.  
"'Taire. I though you were gonna stop." Enjolras pats his curly hair with one hand and continues studying the paperwork he has on the table.  
"I will someday." Grantaire looks up through his eyelashes at Enjolras and frowns. "Rassy? What's wrong?"  
No response. Grantaire's frown deepens and creases show on his forehead. Normally Enjolras hates it when he's called 'Rassy'.  
"'Ras?" He looks down at the paper on the desk and sobers almost instantly. "So, I'm not the only one who hasn't kept their word."  
"It's my life' work. I'm not going to quit now."  
Enjolras' campaign or, as he likes to call it, his revolution. Everyone is aboard but Grantaire knows it's not right for Enjolras to be so devoted. It's all Enjolras ever does and he can't persuade him to slow down. It will be his downfall, he's sure.  
"I didn't say quit, Ras. I meant-"  
"Well, it sure sounded like it." Enjolras snaps and shoves him away.  
"Enjolras. That's not what I meant and you know it." Grantaire raises his voice and he knows trouble is brewing. He also knows he's not drunk enough to be comfortable with it.  
"Do I? Because every chance you get to criticise my revolution, you take it and it hurts, 'Taire. I've spent my life on this!" He's on his feet, the work clutched to his chest. Grantaire can see the bags under his eyes from all the sleepless nights.  
"I'm not criticising you. I'm stopping you from losing everything to this. You can't be a hero all your life, Enjolras." Grantaire rises too and he's vaguely aware of people craning their necks to watch.  
"If doing this makes me one then it's worth everything. I'll give everything i have to this. Sacrifice everything I love so I can make a difference." Had this been a different circumstance, this would of made him sound heroic and brave but Grantaire didn't see it that way.  
"So, it's more important than your own life? You mean that little to yourself, you'd throw it all away for one tiny commendation in some history book?"  
Nod.  
"And the others?"  
Nod.  
"Me?"  
"Yes." Biggest lie he's ever told.  
Enjolras knows that's too far but he says it anyway. He doesn't hesitate and he doesn't apologise. Instead, he stands there and watches the bottle slide out Grantaire's hand as his face pales and he shakes his head.  
"No." He says quietly. "Tell me you don't mean that." His voice wavers and tears are beginning to pool in his eyes.  
Enjolras is lost for words. He wants to stop lying and tell Grantaire he's sorry and he loves him more than anything but he doesn't. He wants to beg for forgiveness and cling to him until he's so annoyed he gives in, much like Grantaire has done to him, but he doesn't. He doesn't do anything except break on the inside as Grantaire chokes out a laugh.  
"I knew you never would love me. I don't know why I ever believed you."  
Something snaps and his words turn to a hiss.  
"Have fun with your revolution, hero." He spins on his heel and the glass under his shoes breaks. Grantaire shoots him a glare as cold as ice and stalks out. No one notices the shard he's purposefully lodge in the sole of his boot.

 

It's strangely soothing, Grantaire muses. The sight of his blood falling down and merging with the clear water beneath him. If he cuts deep enough, he can send a long stream that he can see explode on the rocks. He wonders what it's like to fall down there. Whether it's like he once was told; 'falling is just like flying.'  
"It just has a more permanent destination." He says to himself and tosses the shard down. He leans against the railing, blood running down his arms, and tilts his head back to look at the stars.  
He remembers the last time he stared at the stars he'd been fighting with Enjolras. Over something stupid like missing plans or where all the wine bottles had gone or what Enjy had done to his paint set. He'd run out and lain on the grass, despite the fact it was damp and cold. Enjolras had come and found him, lain down beside him and wrapped an arm round him, telling him over and over that he was sorry and loved him so much. But that was over something that, compared to what had just unfurled, was minor.  
The revolution over him. That wasn't love and he was positive it had always been that way. He was just a knight in the chess game, important at the beginning but sacrificed if it was convenient.  
Well, this was him being sacrificed. This should make Enjolras smile, his body at the bottom, smashed on the rocks.  
"Grantaire!" Skidding sounds and panting. "What are you doing? Oh my god! Your arms."  
Grantaire doesn't even turn at the sound of Enjolras. He simply grabs the railing and leans out.  
"Grantaire. Please. You can't do this."

"I'm sorry. I will always love you." He says and lets go.  
Except he doesn't fall straight away. Someone grabs his wrist holds him there, only his toes on the ledge. He thinks that Enjolras is going to pull him back over but he doesn't. Instead, he jumps over the railing himself and holds Grantaire close.  
"You over the revolution. I'd pick you any day. I love you 'Taire."  
He kisses him so passionately that Grantaire thinks he can see stars and they fall together.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the feels...
> 
> (Posted on FF.net too along with most of my other stories that I have serious writers block on....)


End file.
